


Another Side

by Denise



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise/pseuds/Denise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janet's POV during Serpents Song</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Side

* * *

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

* * *

 

You know you see a lot of sides in medicine. I've seen the bad side, good side, inside, outside, frontside and backside of nearly everyone on this base. I can score 100% on the boxers or briefs question...and before you ask, I ain't telling.   
I've seen the effects of the dark side of man...alien kind when I've had to piece one of the SG teams back together.   
I've seen the bright side of an alien race when one of them saved Sam's life (I'm gonna take her at her word for that one) and another prevented Jacob Carter's death. Not to mention some of them resurrecting 3/4 of SG-1.  
I've seen the soft side of a certain colonel when he refused to leave the side of a dying team mate and even publicly shed a tear or two at her imminent death. This is the same colonel who stayed beside another member of his team and helped the man through one of the worst cases of withdrawal I've ever seen.  
I witnessed the frantic, almost desperate side of a certain captain as she spent hours in that chair right over there when Machello nearly killed Daniel, trying vainly to decipher an alien language.  
I've stood witness to the paternal side of a general, a side he likes to hide by the way, who slips into my infirmary at odd hours checking on a wounded member of his 'family'.  
These last couple of days however, I've seen a side of my friends I hope never to see again.  
When I heard SG-1 was going off to some planet, supposedly to meet the Tok'ra, I really wasn't worried. I mean things have been pretty quiet lately. The last real run in we'd had was when Daniel tangled with Heru'ur on Abydos.  
There were even a few optimists who thought maybe they were going to leave us alone for a bit. Fine by me. I have my hands full patching up the normal cuts, bruises, scrapes and funky viruses of the ROUTINE missions without adding staff weapon burns and ribbon device brain scrambling into the mix.  
Then those annoying klaxons blared and I took off at a run for the gateroom. This is one of the times I wish the infirmary was closer to the gateroom, and not 6 levels away. Then again, these dashes have eliminated my need to go jogging.  
As I run trough the doors I see Teal'c walking down the ramp, carrying a Jaffa and heading towards the gurney someone's grabbed from the storage closet across the hall. I'm glad General Hammond gave me permission to stash it there...I can get to them a lot faster if I don't have to push the silly thing, and it sure beats laying injured people on the cold, hard concrete floor.  
My first thought was that Bra'tac had been injured. He was the only Jaffa I could imaging SG-1 actually bringing home. But as I got closer I could see this man was a stranger, a badly hurt stranger at that. Even through the armor I could see his legs were broken. A quick listen to his labored breathing suggested internal injuries.  
Whoever he was, he wasn't long for this world if I couldn't get my hands on him soon, and even then it would be touch and go.  
Daniel and Sam were keeping their distance but Teal'c wouldn't step more than a few feet away. I was on the verge of asking him who the man was when Colonel Jack O'Neill made his grand entrance, flying backwards through the gate in a cloud of sand still firing his weapon.   
I instinctively duck, trying to shield my patient as his bullets gouge small holes in the wall, sending chips of concrete flying across the room.  
"Colonel?" I hear General Hammond demand. I'm so intent on my patient I hadn't even noticed him coming down from the control room.   
"General Hammond, meet Apophis...Apophis, General Hammond," Jack says in his 'Gee dad you'll NEVER believe what I dragged home' voice as he strolls down the ramp, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. I look at the man on the gurney. Holy smoke....Apophis??? The Goa'uld who took Shau'ri, Daniel's wife. The Goa'uld who tried to destroy Earth from space a few months ago. I don't know who was more surprised, me or SG-1. Gee guys, feel like trying to round up the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus while you're at it?  
"We've met," the general says in a cold voice I've never heard him use before and hope never to hear again. You could almost see the hate and contempt dripping off his tongue.   
"I demand Kel'ma," Apophis gasps out, blood trickling down his chin.  
"I'm not really sure but I think what he wants is..."  
"Sanctuary," Teal'c interjects, cutting Daniel off in an uncustomary fit of rudeness.  
"Right," Daniel agrees, seemingly unaffected by Teal'c's brusqueness.  
I hear them talk as I continue to examine Apophis. My examination confirms my original supposition. This man is dying.  
"Lock him up," I hear Hammond order. Wait a minute...oh no guys. Bad ass Goa'uld or not you're NOT going to toss this man in a cell to die. Not on my watch.  
"Sir, with all due respect, he is badly injured. He's not going to be any good to you at all if we do not get him into the OR now," I inform him, putting as much steel in my voice as I did when I insisted SG-1 be stood down after Daniel's first, or was it second, death.  
"Do what you need to keep him alive Doctor. We have a lot of questions that need answers," the general allows, almost as though he's regretting not killing Apophis right here and now. Course if he did that...well I think I'd clean out my desk and walk out. I've seen and done a lot of...gray area things...but I won't be a party to murder.

~~~~~

It's hours later when I can stop and think about what I've done. I just pieced back together a god. OK, an alien POSING as a God but close enough. I tried to note as much as I could. The opportunity to study (Does that sound morbid?) a Goa'uld isn't one that happens often. I tell myself I'm not being insensitive, there just might be a day when some of the Tok'ra need help...and there's Sam's new found body chemistry to consider.  
Maybe if I learn how it works, I might be able to offer her the chance to undo what Jolinar did to her.  
Unfortunately, most of what I've gained is just how much a body can take and still function. This Goa'uld...man has been subjected to torture that makes Jack's Iraqi experiences look like a walk in the park.   
Judging from the level and magnitude of the scarring, I'd guess he's been in someone's tender loving care for months. From the looks of it, his symbiote is all that's keeping him alive. And it won't much longer. I give them my report and I'm not liking what I'm seeing. I don't know if they're curious as to how long he'll live or wanting to know when to plan the wake. They're hovering over my patient like the kite eating tree from Charlie Brown. Vultures might be too appropriate a cliché to use. I don't even kid myself that they're concerned. Curious, maybe. Incredulous, definitely. Concerned? Not in the least.  
"There is no treatment. He's been tortured," I hear Sam speak up. I look over and see her flinch and pale, lost in a flashback. It's been a while since she's had one of those...at least that she's told me about. Though I did catch her roaming the halls in the wee hours after we sent her father to the Tok'ra.  
She comes back to the present and explains about the Ash'rak. I look at the monitor again. So that little ring did THIS? No wonder she refuses to try it on, much less try to make it work like she has the healing device and ribbon weapon a time or two. Maybe she was right about Jolinar saving her.  
I watch her swallow and look away after her explanation. Meant to cause pain...well that's an understatement. It's been 10 months and she still gets migraines. I see her swallow again. She'll be dashing down the hall any minute now. You know I just might join her.

~~~~~

"He's dying," I tell them in the briefing room.  
"Good. When?" Jack asks. I bite my tongue. He is a ranking officer after all. I simply reply that I have no way of knowing. Sorry colonel, I left my crystal ball at home. Good grief Jack, what do you want? To dance on his proverbial grave? To sell tickets?  
I sit down and listen to them discussing the situation. I get the idea I better not leave Jack alone with Apophis. Then again, as I see the tiny satisfied smile on Teal'c's face I better not leave him alone either.   
Remember the host.  
Good point Sam but not a popular one if the colonel's reaction is anything to go by. Come on Jack, give her a break. You spend a few days a prisoner in your own body and you'll have a soft spot for hosts too. Would you feel this way if you KNEW the host? What will happen if you get Shau'ri/Amaunet back here huh? You gonna feel the same way? Villain or not, the host was, most likely still is, innocent. It's the snake in his head that's the real bad guy here.  
"My orders are to extract whatever information we can in the time we have left," the general states. Right now I'm more grateful than ever that George Hammond is the CO here and not someone like Maybourne. Old Harry would have my patient dissected by now.  
"Let me know when he's conscious," the general orders.  
"I'll inform you the moment he's ready for questioning," I counter. Oh no you guys. He may be your prisoner but he's my patient. And as long as he's my patient, no one's going to browbeat him.

~~~~~

I shoot a glance towards the observation deck. Yep. He's still there. It's been four hours since I evicted Jack from the infirmary and he responded by commandeering the observation room. Guess he doesn't want to miss the show. He's just sitting there, staring at us, his head propped on his hand. What does he think? That Apophis is going to self-destruct or something? For crying out loud Jack, he can't even stand on his own two feet, much less be a threat. I don't kid myself that he's concerned. Not about Apophis anyway. Maybe he's afraid if he turns his back Apophis will die and he'll miss it.   
"Doctor. He's awake," I hear Jack blurt out over the intercom. I look down at my patient and confirm he is in fact conscious. I hear a hoarse whisper and lean over to listen to him easier.  
"Not too close doc," Jack warns. I shoot him a cold look. Colonel are you THIS mother hennish with your team? And they haven't shot you yet?  
"He's not strong enough to hurt me Colonel," I reply, leaving out the part that even if he was strong enough, he's trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, tied to the bed. "He wants to talk to you."  
Intrigued, Jack gets to his feet and comes down.

"What do you want?" Jack asks.  
"To live," Apophis responds.  
"Can't help you there. That's between you and your god...Oh wait a minute. You ARE your god. That's a problem," Jack drawls. I think he enjoys baiting the man. Frankly I'm a little surprised. I had no idea he could be so cruel with his words. I'm standing back a bit, giving them a semblance of privacy but I don't think I'll leave. Not that I think the colonel's capable of cold-blooded murder...I'm NOT leaving. I won't let him do something he'll regret. He's hauling around enough ghosts for six people. I'm not going to let him add another.

"A new host," Apophis demands.  
"A host?" Jack asks incredulously.  
"So that I may live." Whoa, wait a minute. No one's going to get implanted. Not while I'm around. Now if we can get Apophis out of the host...I'll find something to do with him. Maybe chuck him through the gate to Chulak. But there's no way in hell it's going to get a new home. I don't care if it knows the winning Powerball numbers.  
"Doc. Let me know when he dies," Jack drawls, pushing himself away from Apophis' bed. Come on Jack, lighten up a bit. Not even you are this cold-blooded. Then again, if I know the colonel, he's usually his gruffest when he DOESN'T want to admit he feels something.  
"Sokar," Apophis says, almost like he's desperate for Jack to take him up on his deal. So that's who hurt him. I'll have to ask Daniel who he is.   
Jack leaves, I'm assuming to find Daniel and ask him the question I'm curious about too. My stomach growls and I glance at my watch. Oh. It's been about 8 hours since I last ate. Guess it's time to take my life in my hands and see what Sgt. Williams can scrape together for me to eat. I leave nurse Wilson in charge, warning her not to let Apophis out of her sight and make my way to the commissary.

~~~~~

"He won't. He's dying," I speak up, glad to cut off Martouf, well I guess it's really Lantash lecturing us. How dare you lecture us you...Goa'uld. Come on. Face it. Politics and a few alleged morals are all that separate the Goa'uld from the Tok'ra. And after what one of your kind...YOUR wife, did to Sam...Well let's just say I'm skeptical.  
"You are certain of this?" Mar...Lantash asks, clearly taken aback by my statement.  
"His body has begun to age at an increasing rate."  
"Without the sarcophagus to rejuvenate him of course," Lantash concludes. I try to keep my face placid as the little worm proceeds to chastise us like children. My, my, you Tok'ra are a smug bunch.  
Then with the suddenness of a lightning bolt the abrasive symbiote is replaced by a visibly embarrassed Martouf. The man proceeds to spread a little oil on the troubled waters. He's going to have a hard time mending these fences. From the look I've seen flash across Sam's face, she's seeing Jolinar's old love in a whole new light.  
Martouf asks to see Apophis and the General agrees. Sure why not. A man is dying and you want to turn his bedside into stop 23 on the tour.

~~~~~

"But he is your enemy," Martouf says, clearly confused as I explain using the morphine to ease Apophis' pain.   
"He is my patient," I insist. What do you Tok'ra do when you capture a Goa'uld...tie him to an ant hill? Stake him out in the sun? Here's a quiz for you. What's a 10 letter word for kindness? Try compassion. Try the Hippocratic Oath. I'm sworn to preserve life...enemy or friend.   
I see Daniel flinch as Apophis calls out for Amaunet. Don't take it personally Daniel. He's out of his mind with pain. I seem to remember you saying a few things you regretted when you were withdrawing.   
"Sie bou ee. Sie bou ee." I see amazement cross their faces.   
"That's ancient Egyptian. This must be the host," Daniel says, disbelief clear in his voice.  
"Talk to him," Jack orders.   
"I don't know what to say." Well that has to be a first. Daniel usually has so much to say, his mouth can't work fast enough. "Thousands of years trapped in your own body. It's like a nightmare. It's unimaginable," he continues, his voice now showing sympathetic horror for the poor man. I see Apophis' body relax as the morphine finally takes effect. I'm having to use more and more as he deteriorates. Soon it won't work. I know they want information and I know I can't save his life, but I'll be damned if I'll let him die in pain. The klaxons draw SG-1 and the Tok'ra to the control room. I'm glad. Let him rest in peace for a bit.

~~~~~

"Janet." I look up from the chart I'm filling out so see Sam standing in the doorway.   
"Sam. Hi. What's up? Who came through the gate? I didn't think anyone was off world."  
"No one is. Umm. Seems the Goa'uld who captured Apophis is Sokar."  
"Yeah, Apophis said that name," I reply, wondering what exactly she's here for.  
"He did? Well...Sokar wants him back. And he's trying to burn through the iris to get him. I need to talk to Apophis, see if he knows anything we can use to defend ourselves. But he's in a lot of pain. Can you help him?" she asks with an almost guilty look on her face.   
I get the idea she would be happy if I told her no, she couldn't talk to the patient. I look at my watch. "I can give him some more. Though I don't know how much longer it'll work. He's receiving a nearly lethal dose as it is." Sam nods but doesn't reply. I get up and walk over to her. "Sam, are you OK?" She meets my gaze and I could see something was bothering her...badly.   
She gives me a tiny, weak grin. "Just dredging up some...really bad memories."  
"I know," I say as I put my hand on her arm. Boy did I know. "Tell you what. When this is all over I'll get the colonel to watch Cassie and you and I'll do something. Maybe get drunk and watch Austin Powers," I suggest.  
Sam chuckles. Which was exactly the response I had been hoping for. "I think I'll NEED to get drunk to watch that again."  
"OK. We'll do alcohol, silly movies and pizza."  
"Throw in some chocolate and ice cream and you have a deal." She follows me as I unlock the narcotics cabinet and fill a syringe with the drug. We walk down the hall to the isolation room. I enter it to see Teal'c standing at Apophis' bedside.   
"Come no further," he orders coldly. "Let him suffer. And when he can stand the pain no more he will tell us how to defend ourselves against Sokar's weapon."  
I shoot a glance at Sam. She's just as shocked as I at this glimpse of the First Prime side of our friend.  
"Teal'c, please move," I request. Come on, don't make me get the SF's to move you. Fortunately, with the Jaffa equivalent of 'bite me' he leaves. "Easy," I reassure the man as I administer the drug. He relaxes a bit in anticipation of the bliss of the morphine.  
"All right. These shields of yours. They obviously absorb different forms of energy, maybe we could..." I watch as he tries to sit up, pulling on his restraints. He shouldn't be able to do this. He's too weak...maybe the restraints weren't such a bad idea after all.   
"I sense a presence within you," he says quietly, searching Sam's face.  
"Could your shields help us or not?" she demands, ignoring his inquiry.  
"You were once possessed by a Goa'uld," he says slowly, triumphantly, as he lays back down. "I'm sure you will make an excellent host for Sokar's new queen."  
I see anger flare in her eyes. "Listen to me. We know more than one way to get you out of that host. Tell me how to defend against this weapon or I'll remind everyone that there's a device on Cimmeria that'll yank you out so fast you'll WISH we'd left you on that planet. Do you know how the Hammer works? I can see to it you find out."  
"You won't," he replies, perhaps not as sure of himself as he pretends to be.  
Sam leans forward, placing her hands on the edge of his bed. "Consider this. We obviously know how to get rid of a Goa'uld while leaving the host intact," she says, referring to herself.   
They stare each other down for a second. Then Apophis broke the contact and turned his gaze to the ceiling in false disinterest. "There is no defense. Your only option is to flee and hope you can escape by ship."  
Sensing the truth and defeat in the man's voice, Sam pushes herself off the bed and silently leaves the room.

~~~~~

"Martouf is right. What we really need to be concerned with here is another assault from space. That's what we're inviting by refusing to hand Apophis over." You too Sam? What happened to 'Remember the host'? He gets under your skin and you're willing to turn him over for some more torture. Hello guys. We are still talking about TWO sentient beings here.  
"Our new orders are to cease all medical intervention," the general says.  
"That will effectively end his life General," I protest. I know I'm very much in the minority here but you're just going to let him die? I thought we were the good guys.  
"I'm aware of that doctor," he says, empathy and understanding in his voice. "Our orders are to send his body back through the gate to the coordinates where you found him." So he's too inconvenient to have around so you're going to toss him back to the sharks.   
I watch everyone file out of the stuffy briefing room.   
"Doctor," I hear the general say.   
I turn to face him. "Sir?"   
"I know what your opinion and feelings are. Would you like me to call in Bill Warner?" he offers, giving me an out.   
I close my eyes for a second and make my decision. I started this, I was going to finish it. I needed to finish it. I needed to help the host in every way I could. "That won't be necessary sir. I can handle it," I tell him.  
He nods. "Very well. Let me know if you change your mind," he instructs gently.  
"Yes sir," I respond as I leave the room.

~~~~~

  
I stand beside Colonel O'Neill as we listen to Apophis...no, his host talk. My heart breaks at the desolation, the hopelessness in his voice. I know I can't understand the words, but his emotions break any language barrier.  
I listen to Daniel comfort him in his native tongue. My goodness, he's a smart man. It doesn't surprise me that Daniel has seen past the visage on the surface, the creature who took his wife, to the pathetic man underneath.   
When Jolinar was in Sam, Daniel was the only one who remembered, even though she wasn't in control, she WAS still in there. And Shau'ri. He told me, even a year later, once Amaunet was passive, Shau'ri was still there. This proves SOMETHING of the host survives.  
Maybe Daniel sees something of himself in Apophis. The host was a scribe, a scholar. Only a couple millennia separate the two men. I mean, take Daniel back to ancient Egypt and he and the host might have been kindred spirits...friends even.   
He keeps talking to the host in that strange, but oddly beautiful language, comforting him. Giving him some peace. It's the most compassionate act I've ever seen.

"Help me," Apophis gasps, his eyes glowing as the symbiote exerts the last of its strength.  
"No," Jack replies evenly, all mocking, all triumph gone from his voice.  
"A host," he pleads desperately. Hopelessly. Even if we got him a host, he's probably too weak to move into it.   
"No," Jack repeats. Is that regret I hear in your voice colonel?

"The Goa'uld is dead. But the host...he's still alive." I touch his cheek, an act I've been forbidden to do until now. I see him take his first free breath in millennia. He looks at me, I'm not even sure his rheumy eyes are capable of focusing. I don't think I'm imagining the tragic peace in his eyes. At least he'll die free.

~~~~~

I stand beside them in the gateroom as Teal'c carries the blanket shrouded form up the ramp. We could have used a gurney or a stretcher but Teal'c insisted on carrying the man. I'm not sure if it's his last act of loyalty to his former God, a gesture of respect to the host, or him wanting to reassure himself that the man is indeed dead.  
My patient flies across the galaxy and the wormhole disengages with a snap. I look at the solemn faces around me and I leave the room, without even asking for permission. I have to get out of here.  
I take the elevator to the surface and scramble up the rough path, ignoring the curious looks from the guards. I finally stop and look around. It somehow seems wrong that a man has died and nothing has changed. The scenery is the same. The world, life, goes on. I let the warmth of the sun chase away the chill I feel. I take a moment and close my eyes, letting the peace of my surroundings seep into me.   
At least I gave him a little time, a little peace. I did what I could. I'm just a doctor, not a god, I remind myself.  
I take one last look at the forest around me and make my way back down the mountain. Enough sulking Janet. You were swamped before Apophis showed up. Time to get back to work.

~~~~~

The movie credits fade to black and I struggle with the remote to make the tiny box do what I want it to. Finally I get it to stop and rewind the tape. I look over at Sam, sprawled on the love seat. Her eyes are open but she's stretching sleepily. Noting the number of empty beer bottles on the coffee table scattered amongst the remains of a junk food orgy, I guess I better pull out the extra blankets. Though I shouldn't be surprised. I figured this movie night would turn into a slumber party. I turn my attention back to the TV. There's an old episode of MASH on. Hawkeye and Potter are discussing a patient. Oh Boy. I've faced that dilemma.  
"Have aah...have you ever..." Sam starts.  
"Triage is the hardest part," I say quietly, cutting her off. "Sometimes you just have seconds to decide who gets treated first, who has to wait..."  
"Who never gets treated," Sam says.  
"Yeah," I confirm. Yes, I've had to decide between saving one critical patient, spending time and resources on one person who may not make it or working on ten who stand a chance.  
"How do you do that?" Sam asks, rolling to her side to face me. "How can you decide who lives or dies?"  
"The same way you do," I reply simply.  
"What?"  
"How do you decide when to pull the trigger? How do you pick your target? How do you choose to wound or to kill?"  
"I...well...I...every situation is different, with different goals," she says.  
"Basically, you try for the greater good, don't you. Jack was going to sacrifice all four of you to save Earth. Daniel risked getting shot to help the Tollan escape. You guys turned yourselves over to Heru'ur rather than have him kill the Cimmerians. Your own father is light years away. You made the choice to let him go to save his life. You aim for the best outcome and try not to think about how you get there," I impart this gem of wisdom. "Just like we did with Apophis. We gave him some peace. We may have risked our lives to do so, but I think it made a difference."  
"Sokar has a sarcophagus," Sam blurts out.  
"What?" I ask in horror. Oh no. Please don't mean...  
"Martouf said Sokar has a sarcophagus. By now he's most likely revived Apophis so he can torture him some more," Sam says sadly, looking at her hands as if she could see blood on them.   
"OH God," I flash back to my examination...My God, what they're doing to him...I honestly wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy...Death is preferable.  
"Yeah," she confirms quietly.  
"At least...at least, maybe the host found some peace," I say, trying to find a bit of positive in the whole awful situation.  
"Maybe," Sam says quietly. We both fall silent, trying to reconcile our memories and eventually fall asleep serenaded by the trials, tribulations and laugh tracks of old sitcoms.

~fin~


End file.
